Follow Me Down
by AccapellaAnarchist
Summary: In a world ruled by two massive empires and a very literal underground society, Lukas Bondevik finds himself swept into a whirlwind of secrets, politics and war with the man he blames for his family's death, an ominous mountain and a deadly slice of butterscotch pie. All because of some traitorous clouds. Who would have thought? Eventual DeNor, SuFin. This will be long...
1. Chapter 1

So, this is a thing, a thing that has been running about my head for a while. It's a very annoying, persistent thing, and methinks it will probably be updated more often than my other works. Sorry!

Lukas pulled the edges of his coat tightly around him as he marched briskly down the avenue. He made a mental note to ask his mother to get out the winter coats; even though it was hardly October yet, it had already begun to feel like nature was losing its fragile grip on life for the year, and it had snowed only the day before. Admittedly none of it actually stuck to the ground, but it was still definitely snow, so light it didn't make a sound against his wide, embellished umbrella.

Said umbrella was bumping lightly against his hip uselessly as the sky threatened to make him use it. Still, despite not currently having a practical use, it stood out against the grey surroundings, proclaiming loudly for anyone who wanted to hear that he was Lukas Bondevik. The same could be said for any umbrella held in the hands of a passer-by. Lighter colors were in fashion right now, and you could easily tell how deep someone's pockets were by the amount of outlandish decoration that stood out on the mobile shelter.

The Murphys color coordinated, a mellow shade of orange, with a light purple for their kids. They also had black lacy spirals making gothic melting icicles when it was really pouring. David Manson was famous for being confused with a traffic cone, the neon yellow drawing eyes left and right when it rained. Not that his beard didn't do that anyway… Some of the really wealthy people in town went as far as getting customized crests emblazoned on theirs, like his parents for example.

His parents, now they were an interesting story. Through some stroke of luck -and probably a bribe to be honest- his great grandfather became rather good acquaintances with the Fuhrer, and was appointed to a high position in parliament after the first uprising after he 'warned the Fuhrer of an assassination plot'. At first Lukas had been surprised at finding his own family in a history book, and wondered how many people would find their name in an official record of the past, but then assumed if someone who was just a little boy could do that, then it must be rather common. He wondered how many people he passed on the streets had parents and grandparents who were heroes in the rebellion. It didn't occur to him that the bad guys portrayed in the books had names too. It had always seemed that they were obscured by the writer, just out of reach. His grandfather's position had simply been passed down through the generations, more as an honorary thing than anything solid. Soon it would go to him, Lukas thought queasily.

He would be able to take the public front, as well as the money, and keep his little brother out of the public eye. Not to say that the publicity would pass him by completely, however little Emil certainly took after his older brother when it came to his "outgoing" nature. Meaning, he wasn't. Both of them would much prefer sequestering themselves away in the family library and reading the days away with well-kept books and warm, puffy couches, not having to say a word to anyone besides each other. Most of their communication was tacit and almost telepathic anyway.

Lukas's dedication was second to no one else's when it came to his brother, and despite their reclusive nature, the bond between the boys was almost as famous as their parents' reputation. Anyone who knew of the Bondeviks knew of the twins. Despite the fact that they weren't twins, when they were awake they were almost exclusively together, a look shared between them the only thing necessary for them to make a decision. People started to refer to them as just 'the Bondevik twins' or some variation thereupon when they saw them.

When Emil had turned 5, their parents decided that it was time for each of the boys to have their own room, but within an hour of their bedtime, Emil was found sleeping soundly by his brother's side in the small bed left for Lukas. Eventually it was just left to them to determine their living arrangements, and sure enough, they took the queen bed that had been in the guest room, and moved back into the same room.

Now that they were older though -Lukas at 17 and Emil at 13- they had two separate beds, still in the same room however. They still fought over simple things, as siblings are bound to do, and each had developed a rhythm to their day that worked around the other's. Books were common ground, and each had their own bookmarks so as to not lose their place when the other read. The floor was littered not with clothing or toys, but many, many books.

A gust of arctic wind brought Lukas from his thoughts and he quickened his pace as he approached a small oak door inset in a relatively monotone red brick wall. It wasn't much, and would likely have been overlooked by the average observer in favor of the two bright shops to either side of it. With no sign in sight, it could easily have been mistaken for a practical joke, a door that lead to nothing, or simply another entrance to one of the neighboring stores. But Lukas knew better. So did Emil. As he opened the door and closed it quickly to avoid letting in the cold, the rain started pouring down right where he had been standing.

It wasn't surprising though, the rain had been elusive for far too long, and it was making the people of the town very jumpy. The soft sound echoing through the walls soothed Lukas as he ascended a very plain skinny staircase. He met another door at the top of the stair and opened it cautiously, attempting to be as quiet as possible.

"Hello Lukas." The voice came from a tuft of brown hair poking up from the back of a deep armchair in the left corner of the room. He hadn't even looked up. 'How does he do that?!' Lukas sighed and walked into the mildly lit room. Every wall was lined to the celling with bookshelves, and the wall opposite the door had a small patio overlooking the shops below it, but the doors were closed most of the time to keep the rain out. In the middle of the room facing the patio was a coffee table surrounded by a long couch and two armchairs that groaned with the wind outside when you sat on them. There were also two neighboring tall lamps, out of a total of five that were the only illumination other than the light from the patio. Books and coffee stains on loose pieces of paper covered a reception desk to Lukas's immediate left with three armchairs scattered about the room. Lukas sunk into the one by his friend, who still had yet to look up from the thick tome in his hands.

"What a surprise," Lukas began sarcastically. "I never expected to find you here Heracles." Truth be told he never expected him to be here without… _Oh, never mind_. A small white cat proceeded to take an interest in the newcomer and jumped up on his lap demandingly. Heracles shared the brother's tendency to avoid people, but more for the sake of sleep and the company of cats than for any dislike of the public.

Heracles was the owner of this small book nook, running it as an addition to the pet shop downstairs. While it didn't make any money, acting merely as a library, he spent most of his time at the top of the skinny staircase, preferring to let his demure friend from the east run the "business" part of his life. He just kidnapped the cats and took them as companions in the small room of books while he read. It worked well for him, not many people noticed the obscure door, and those who did tended to be like minded in just wanting a quiet place to read and slow down in life.

Emil was actually the one who had discovered the place. Four years ago in a monsoon of a storm that caused even the hardiest raingoers to seek the indoors, he had made a break for the nearest door, nearly losing his umbrella in the process. He and Heracles got on well from the start and it had taken two hours for Lukas to track him down, sitting amongst the books. It wasn't until he saw the two of them together that Heracles put the pieces together and learned they were Bondeviks. While both Lukas and Heracles were politically astute people, neither were very inclined to entangle themselves in the web of the country's inner workings, especially considering the whispers of a second resistance flitting about the empire. While Heracles was perfectly free to bury his head in the sand, Lukas wasn't so lucky. He did his best to keep his brother away from anything that might be dangerous, but being in the political spotlight didn't make it easy.

After finishing the page he was on and turning it, Heracles got up without a word and went over to the desk. Despite its disarray, Lukas could tell that its owner knew exactly where everything was. A large red book was shoved under his nose when he didn't respond to Heracles's quiet description and he took it without preamble.

"Was it hard to find?" Lukas asked in his normal monotone.

"I have my connections. It may not be on the fuhrer's reading list, but it isn't banned. Yet." The two of them shared an uncomfortable silence. Lukas had learned through his excessive childhood study that before the first uprising, the rebels had been printing secret propaganda, and that the Fuhrer had started to ban the poisonous text. Of course he learned later that it was hard to identify these books and that many were banned that had nothing to do with anything. In Lukas's opinion, blind stamping of a foot to kill an ant was an ineffective and perilous way to run a government.

Not that he was one to judge, he had never run a country before, and to be honest, he didn't want to. But if it came to that, he would do anything to protect his brother. Maybe it was an overreaction, but all he wanted was for Emil to be able to live a happy life. Have him marry a nice girl, have a few kids, and get to read all the books he could ever want. He already knew that there was a girl in his year at his school that he was crushing on, and he was hard pressed to not prod his brother into asking her on a date.

Of course for him, he doubted a future like that would be possible. Not only was his prospective career going to take up most of his time, but he didn't really take an interest in girls. When he had hit puberty, his body had woken up to the idea of intimacy with another person, but it had decided that, no actually girls were weird and baffling and a little bit concerning. He couldn't bring himself to look at them as more than walking, talking others. He could appreciate their aesthetic, but not their sexual appeal.

But it was no use dwelling on things he couldn't change. He would settle for being the uncle that spoils his niece or nephew. His brother's family could be the warmth that would fill his parent's large house, instead of him living alone there after his parents passed… but that wouldn't happen for a long time, he still had to reach the age of twenty to be old enough to even start worrying about that sort of thing. As would Emil. Hopefully he would lose the awkward nervousness he exhibited around small children, but Lukas had to admit, imagining his brother holding a child he had no idea what to do with was highly entertaining.

"Knowing your brother," Heracles broke his train of thought. "He'll have finished that before the end of the week." Lukas nodded. His brother loved ancient history –despite fervently denying it anytime he was asked- and the book he was holding was one of the few surviving books that held accurate knowledge about the Before. It seemed that anything that wasn't about their own country held little of the public interest.

"I'm sure he'll have questions for you when he's done." Emil and Lukas always had long discussions about the books they read, but it always seemed that the only one with concrete answers was Heracles.

"I'll be happy to answer them." He smiled politely, and after a pause that dictated the end of their conversation, turned around and began to pick his way back to his chair.

The rain had let up, but showed no signs of stopping anytime soon as Lukas stepped out of the mysterious door and opened his umbrella with the book tucked safely under his arm. Everything about rain soothed him. The sunlight was really a bother, it made him squint his eyes and look even more pissed than his usual facial expression. But rain was peaceful, when he was younger he believed it could wash away all the bad things in this world, and even now that he knew it was just water, and had no magical properties, it still made him feel that everything was okay.


	2. Chapter 2

Short chapter is short. Ehh...

Emil was sulking in the big armchair in his parent's (his and his brother's) study staring gloomily out of the window. It had been almost an hour, and Lukas wasn't back yet. He had volunteered to go and get the book Emil had requested from Heracles to avoid him getting distracted in conversation, but it would appear that the thing he had been trying to avoid happened to him instead. But as the front door slammed shut on the floor beneath him, Emil took to his feet and raced down the stairwell to claim his prize.

"Hey!" Lukas nearly failed to jump out of the way as his brother barreled down the staircase, arms outstretched toward the book in his hands.

"Wow, from the way you're acting someone might think you were having withdrawals or something." He then proceeded to hold the book above his head, almost a foot and a half above Emil's reach.

"I am! I _need_ that book!" He started jumping for it.

While Lukas understood enough of the subject matter, he had never actually read the book Emil was so intent on getting into his clutches, and wondered exactly why it was so hard to come by. He knew it was a sensitive topic within the government at the moment, but it had passed the text inspection near the end of the first uprising. The Before really had very little to do with the rebels, and Lukas felt that it was important to look at foreign or ancient history, instead of just the contemporary stuff that people could ask their grandparents about. Also, Emil really liked history books, so he figured it was fine.

He sighed and handed the book to Emil, who took it hungrily. "You know," he sighed again as Emil opened to the first page and began reading in the middle of the front hall. "You can't have withdrawals from books..." although his heart wasn't in the statement.

As they sat down at the table for their evening meal, one of the only times they actually got to see their parents, besides their economics lessons, Lukas saw that his brother still had his head buried in that book.

"You know," he breathed lightly behind his brother's chair, making him jump. "Just because dad is all for education doesn't mean he would necessarily approve of you reading what could be considered 'dangerous material' at the dinner table."

Emil's face contorted from a look of annoyance to one of contemplation, to one of mild horror, and he proceeded to close the book and place it discreetly under his chair.

"Good choice." Lukas whispered. He then walked back to his chair as his parent's footsteps traced into the room and halted at their respective chairs.

The meal passed quickly, idle conversation a lesson in itself; how to talk for hours and say absolutely nothing. Certainly a very useful skill in politics. His father dominated the majority of the conversation, talking about how his boss was becoming increasingly nervous, both about the mysterious disappearances that paralleled those before the first uprising, and how the sewer patrols were turning up more and more cave-ins that seemed completely random and felt like a wild goose chase. Nothing new really. It had been going on for years. Even Their uncle, just as politically astute as his brother, had brushed off his concerns as just antsy government officials looking to find a way to boost their public credibility with an arrest. He thought the government was simply overreacting, and then he became a victim of the disappearances.

That's what bothered Lukas, that the brother of a well-known government official disappears, and no one bats an eyelash. He was just immediately given up for dead without so much as a search party. It was the same story for all the disappearances, no one looked, and any questions about it were discouraged and snuffed out before the week had ended.

It was suspicious.

To be fair, his missing uncle wasn't really someone he knew… The boys had met Allistor Kirkland only a handful of times, for some reason he chose to disassociate himself from the family, claiming the last name Kirkland, and starting a printing firm (A great choice in the boy's mind). He'd given them a few books, and showed up to dinner on a few holidays, but other that that was absent. His conspicuous red head had disappeared from the streets almost two years ago, at the very beginning, and that had been that.


	3. Chapter 3

Lukas stared at it. Just stared. He had been staring at it for the last ten minutes as well. Should he read it? _No, it's Emil's book… But we share books all the time… After all the disinterest I showed, it would be weird, right?_ Lukas sighed. Well, he wasn't going to learn anything by staring at the cover all day. He had tried that. He had also tried sleeping on a book, hoping some sort of word osmosis would occur overnight and he would wake up as if he had stayed up reading it, except not as tired.

Lukas picked up the red tome that he had collected from Heracles earlier that day and looked at the title. _Into the Cliffs._ Well, it was appropriate for the subject matter. From what he had heard, the book was the most in-depth study of the Before ever printed, and there were only fifty copies of it in existence. Rare indeed.

 _The peoples who inhabited this land in the Before - the earliest evidence dating to 1200 years before the new century of 1900- have been given the title of the Atlas people, as no translatable written record of any titles have been found in the cliffs in which they lead their daily lives. Ruins of their civilization have been found both on top of and in the cliffs to the south of the Northern Empire, however the majority of the evidence of their existence had been turned to dust by the harsh winter winds that assault the cliffs._

 _The major artifacts that have been found are the twenty seven caves in the cliffs and the two crystal pillars that average three stories in height, visible on either side of the caves. The caves themselves consist of twenty seven individual rock ladders carved into the side of the cliffs that end in twenty foot wide openings. These openings are approximately thirty feet high, with identical circular patterning, similar to that on the crystal pillars, and the caves are all identical in structure. The inside of the caves, at the deepest point are thirty feet, and taper to a small cone at the back. Evidence of paint has been found on the walls closest to the entrances, however no defined images are visible._

 _Archeologists have theorized as to the purpose of these caves, as they are devoid of evidence of consistent use._ _The most prominent theories are that they were places of worship or used as defense towers for the city._

Interesting. Lukas hadn't known most of the ancient history, only the new stuff that involved the uprising. Just before violence actually broke out, the rebels dug a series of tunnels into the mountains from the caves, using the cheapest and easiest to obtain (While not looking to suspicious) material; sewer piping. The tunnels lead all the way out of the city, nearly to the South Empire actually, one entrance in each cave. After the uprising, the tunnels were sealed off, and the government turned them into an execution center, placing three ton iron pendulums over the sealed sewer entrances, and leaving the unconscious death row person in the sewer to die there when the pendulum blocks their way out. Not the worst way to die, certainly, but cave blindness, starvation and dehydration didn't sound too good either.

He shivered slightly. No use worrying about it. It wasn't like they would ever execute a to-be member of parliament.

Light stung Lukas's eyes as he closed the back cover of the book. It was far more detailed than he had given it credit for at the beginning, and it had taken him until about twenty minutes after sunrise to finally finish it. He was careful to replace Emil's bookmark exactly as it had been when he picked up the book the night before, and he tried (and failed) to stifle the yawn that demanded his eyes squint closed.

Emil was a dead-to-the-world sleeper, and it was no surprise to Lukas that he hadn't even twitched when their bedroom light clicked on at midnight. Even now, the obnoxious sunlight spilling in through the slightly parted curtains didn't wake him from his death-like slumber.

"Pssst."

"Hey." Lukas sighed and whispered a bit louder. "Emiiiiiillllll." Still no reaction.

Finally giving in, Lukas launched his pillow across the room onto his brother's head. "Wake up Jekyll."

An elongated groan emanated from beneath said pillow.

"Everyone knows you just _looove_ morning."

"Mmmmmmmnnggg." Was the enunciated rebuttal.

"Come on, I'll cook if you get up and come to the kitchen with me." Now that got a response. A head full of floofy white hair popped out from under the blankets. The small slits that were Emil's eyes seemed to brighten at the thought of food.

Lukas didn't cook very often. Not because he wasn't good at it, in fact he was likely better than their cook, but rather, he just didn't _want_ to. He played dumb when it came to the culinary world. When his parents suggested he learn to make food for himself rather than bug them every time he was hungry, he made it look like he hadn't a clue. That was because if he hadn't then they would expect him to actually try. He figured if he failed at cooking, his parents would have to just give up and get the cook to make food for him. Perhaps it was the cheater's way out, but he wanted to be lazy sometimes, dammit!

They both meandered down to the kitchen, Emil trailing his blanket behind him, tripping lightly over nothing at the base of the stairs.

"Qusshmmn."

"What?" Lukas turned around and glanced at his not-so coherent brother.

Emil sighed. "Quiche. I want Quiche."

"As you wish, young master." The elder bowed deeply with the trademark smirk few got to see, and turned on his heel as his brother huffed his mild irritation and amusement. He then reached up and opened the cupboard as quietly as the hinges would allow and took out a bowl.

Onions, mushrooms potatoes and assorted others met their fate on Lukas's cutting board, felled by a deftly wielded knife. They were then slid into a bowl of fluffy egg whites and yolks with just a hint of cream to add flavor. Lukas mixed in the ingredients as he walked over to the stove and set them to sizzle quietly in a warm, light blue pan.

Emil was slightly more awake at this point, blearily watching his brother move about the kitchen preparing their meal. Not thinking much of it when his brother disappeared up the stairs and left him with their food, he couldn't help but close his eyes happily as his brother reappeared and ran a soft-bristle brush through his hair. Normally he would bristle and balk at such motherly treatment, but at such an early hour with no one to convince of his independence, he simply sighed contentedly.

Despite the famous connection between them, Emil was very insistent on avoiding any public displays of affection that his brother happened to throw his way, much to Lukas's disappointment. Truth be told he really didn't mind, he loved his brother to death, but he hated prying eyes even more. He knew that he would never be stuck in a position of public authority- Lukas made sure of that- but the thought that anyone could view Lukas as his weakness, or vice versa usually caused him to draw away. But that brush felt soooo good…

"So," Lukas began conversationally. "What do you think of that book I got you?" He smiled lightly behind Emil's head, knowing that he would have to keep trying to get a response.

"Mmmnn."

"Ahh, I see." He simply continued brushing his brother's hair. It was nice, really, if they were up early enough, Lukas could see that his brother hadn't put up the walls he did when the rest of the world was awake. They could actually converse as they had as children, openly and comfortably. He frowned, finding himself unable to identify just when he had to resort to becoming a morning person to talk with Emil. It wasn't that way when they were kids, but even now, their common ground for conversation was books.

Lukas's hands stilled as he realized something. He never once saw his brother's shield (Except perhaps when they met) when he was talking to Heracles, or even just when the man was around. What was his secret? Obviously he had something Lukas didn't, that was sure. Even with that Kiku guy who ran his shop downstairs, he made everyone around him strangely comfortable. Why?

"Why'd ya stop?" Emil brought him back to reality.

"Huh? Oh, the food."

After a warm plate of quiche had been placed in front of both brothers and then promptly devoured, they made their way back up to their room.

Lukas looked to his left as discretely as he could, which for him, meant almost imperceptibly. His little brother had moved but an inch in the past two hours, with the exception of an occasional shift of his legs and the turning of a page, his nose buried so far into that book you'd think it was actually a magic portal slowly absorbing him. Emil dug himself into the pages just as voraciously as his brother had, so Lukas really couldn't criticize him for it.

The way the book was written was peculiar to say the least, the chapters jumping around, and the wording almost a different dialect with its strange syntax. Diagrams were strewn everywhere, all pertaining to the text, but in images of pillars, words were scrawled in miniscule parallel with lines veering into the middle of the picture with no rhyme or reason. The book was old, but the inconsistencies were definitely supposed to be there. But they were of little consequence, the book was a very intriguing read with or without its odd nature.

It occurred to Lukas that with his brother's exceptional intelligence, he would also have noticed, and that he would likely go to Heracles in search of answers. That meant that if he followed his brother, he could get the information he wanted without having ever admitted he had read the book himself.

'Brilliant. When he finishes,' He noted about a chapter and a half left. 'I'll head out to go buy coffee or something, wait for him to leave to go see Heracles, and follow him there.'

Fidgeting over the details of his plan, Lukas almost missed his brother closing the book and stretching his arms above his head.

"Done already?"

"Hm? Yeah. It's a really good book. Weird… but really good. I've never read anything like it, history really isn't my thing, but this was pretty entertaining."

Emil paused and blinked like he was trying to keep himself awake, then stood up rather abruptly. He twisted his torso around just a bit as he addressed his brother.

"Well, I'm gonna head out after I grab some leftovers from the kitchen." He then stuck the book under his arm and shoved his hands in his pockets, just as Lukas stood up, grabbing his scarf.

"Just make sure to bring your key, I'm leaving now to meet someone at the café down the street, and I'm not sure when I'll be back."

The brother's held eye contact for just a moment, Lukas, hoping his brother would just take the story and walk away, and Emil wondering why his brother looked like someone just pissed in his morning orange juice, and why he hadn't brought this up before. "Mmm. Who are you meeting?"

He knew that Lukas almost never bothered to make plans with someone else-that involved effort on his part, so either he was making it up, or it was someone pretty special. Who could possibly have caught his brother's eye?

"Oh, I'm just…" Shit! He was catching on. What to do, what to do… "Meeting someone." He tried his best to look flustered, and even managed a slight blush. "Just… someone. I'll be home whenever, so don't worry."

The younger smiled inwardly as he nodded and turned away. It was about time that his brother got out, he at least had his friends at school, but Lukas had been a shut in for almost as long as Emil could remember. Happy for his brother, Emil imagined who this perfect mystery man could be to actually make his brother blush like that. Strong, probably a bit taller than his brother, hopefully this guy smiled a bit more than Lukas, it would do him good. Maybe even good enough to persuade him to stay the night… not that Emil really wanted to know how that would work, or imagine it really, but so long as whoever it was had Lukas as their highest priority, and took care of him, Emil figured he could live with his brother being absent a few nights.

The street was still filled with the early morning buzz of people getting their first coffee fix or buying newspapers. The rain from the previous night had left the ground damp, and Emil's boots splashed in the shallow puddles he failed to avoid as he walked to Heracles's shop. He wove his way through the crowds of people, trying to ignore the chill in the air.

A bell rang as he made his way into the small pet shop, announcing his arrival to the seemingly empty room. Heracles usually wasn't upstairs until noon, more often than not napping away the morning in the back room of his store.

"Oh, Emil-san, I haven't seen you around here in quite a while. How have you been?"

Kiku Honda was the brother of Emil's best friend, and unless they told you, you would never know they were related. Kiku was polite and reserved, sporting his culture's traditional long robes and a simplistic haircut. His younger brother on the other hand, Li Xiao (he just went by Leon) was what one might call, a troublemaker. Of course, that would be putting it mildly. His hair flew everywhere, and he tended to wear whatever he found fashionable (note, what _he_ found fashionable) and was highly outspoken with a complete disregard for rules. The brothers were complete opposites of each other, but Emil enjoyed the company of both.

"I've been pretty good thanks. My brother just might have a date tonight, so I hope that goes well." Kiku was one of only a few who knew of Lukas's preferences, but he was one of those people who couldn't care less about how people identified.

"I am very happy for him." His face betraying none of this 'happiness'. Although, he didn't really do the whole… emoting thing.

"Anyway, is Heracles here?" Emil turned to peer around him, seeing only darkness behind the counter.

Kiku moved to walk to the back of the store. "He is in the back room. I believe that he has Molly and Nico with him and they don't really like to be disturbed, so be careful not to wake them." He then turned and left Emil in front of the storage room door.

The image of Heracles on his back with a hat over his face, and his arms flanked with two cream colored balls of fluff met Emil when he opened the door. He almost laughed, but chose instead to lightly poke his friend.

When that didn't get a response, he whispered, "Hey, I brought you those fake cat ears you wanted."

"Really?" Heracles sat up quickly. (Well, quickly for him.)

"No."

"…Oh."

"Anyway, I finished that book." Heracles looked confused.

"Book… Oh, the one your brother picked up?"

"Yeah that one. Anyway, I had a few questions about it." Heracles moved over, and motioned for Emil to sit down. A small grin sat on the child's face as he dove into his questioning.


	4. Chapter 4

**So, the majority of this chapter is just me speaking from personal experience, but it is an important plot point. Yes, direct sunlight does make me sneeze. Sunglasses are my savior.**

Lukas almost immediately regretted his decision to trust the clouds he saw from his window. The cold, he was prepared for. The sun? Not so much. He trudged angrily down the cobblestone, muttering to himself. Passing strangers could make out thing like "Stupid sun… do we even need it... I don't care what physics says, I'mma fight it." And the like.

His normally narrow eyes were mere slits, as he squinted viciously to avoid the growing feeling of cotton in his sinuses that he knew meant only one thing…

At least five heads shot up out of the books or newspapers they were buried in at the loud, rather grating outburst. Lukas had sprinted for shade as fast as he could when he felt the sensation become too strong to handle, but despite making it to the safety of the shadows, a few seconds later he did the unthinkable. He sneezed.

He sneezed. REALLY. LOUDLY. It was the most horrific moment of his not-really-that-long life, and Lukas wished more than anything that he could just fade into the pavement and not exist for a few… years. The eyes that were either pinned on him, or searching the area to locate the source of the offending noise felt like spotlights during a prison break. He was the quiet, cool guy, the one who walked with purpose down the avenue, with the face that said; 'If you know my name, you know I don't take shit from anyone', not the 'loud and obnoxious asshole from the dogey end of town trying to mock the coordinated people' person.

To be fair, the sour facial expression he wore was softer indoors, simply for the lack of natural sunlight. Ever since he was little, every time he would step out into direct sun, it was always too bright, too glaring, too frickin' loud to do anything but overwhelm his eyes, and in turn, his nose. His brother would giggle, try not to, and then just crack up laughing as Lukas ran around the yard looking for shade in which to hide. "HAVE YOU FIXED YOUR NOSE YET!?" would always be shouted after him, followed by more laughter.

Allistor had, at one point, taken pity on the poor child, gifting him with tinted aviator goggles to wear outdoors. At first they had been a bit large and uncomfortable, but as Lukas' style developed, he found the look completed him. Naturally he had outgrown the first set, and had quickly requisitioned a replacement. Or five. One could never be too careful.

Usually he never left the house without the goggles if it wasn't raining, or about to. He could trust those clouds. The ones today however, just a bit too light for rain, were traitorous. He trusted them with his dignity and his eyesight. They just turned up their noses and let the sun stab him in the back.

Lukas was brought from his disgruntled and shamed musings by a handkerchief being waved – a bit too enthusiastically – in his face. Wrinkling his nose at the gesture, he pushed aside the hand blocking his view with the cloth, and found himself face to face with some very. Blue. Eyes.

For a second, he just stared. Really, what else could he do? Was it even physically possible to take the morning sky and stick it in someone's eyeball? If it was, it certainly wouldn't be legal. Lukas wanted the sky back. The face he had only just noticed, belonged to a man about his age (though a good two inches taller), the comic grin stretching across his face setting Lukas' nerves on edge. Every excessively loud aspect of him did, actually. Everything, from the brightness of his teeth, to the upward swoop of his hair to the slight creases by his eyes as he smiled to the -frankly ridiculous- shade of blue inset in said eyes. He wanted this man to give back the sky he took.

"I don't think I've ever heard a sneeze like that!" Even his voice was loud, and not just in volume. "You sure you're okay?" Every word drew in Lukas' attention, whether he wanted it or not.

The only response he gave was a slight grunt of acknowledgement and a narrowing of his eyes as he brushed past the stranger, preparing to head back into the light of the evil daystar. Lukas reminded himself he had a schedule; get to the café, stay long enough so that if Emil asked around it could be said that he looked like he was waiting for someone, and then get to Heracles' shop so he could eavesdrop on their conversation. No, wait, it sounded too stalker-y when he put it like that. Maybe, 'observe his brother's curiosity in action'. Yes, that sounded better.

However, wherever that train of thought was going, it wasn't going to make it as Lukas found the stranger on his right, matching every stride. Could the guy just not take a hint? He picked up his pace a little, not acknowledging the bright smile in his peripherals. Maybe he was a fan? No, anyone who was would be smart enough to leave him alone on a day like today. That meant he was either some kook, or a bum looking for an easy path to his parents pockets.

Lukas groaned internally at the thought, enough people, men and women alike had tried to woo him, none brave enough to try his brother after he glared spears of ice into their backs, all in attempts to get even a glimpse of some gold lining his future pockets. He could tell. He could always tell. Their smile was always just wide enough to ward off suspicion, but it would melt like wax anytime they thought the world wasn't looking. And maybe the world wasn't. But he was.

Lukas knew what real interest looked like, he could see it in his brother's eyes whenever he talked about his friends, or a good book, or that girl he liked from school, and he could see it in every conversation with Heracles, every late night existential topic Lukas would bring up. He could talk for hours without interruption, and the spark in his brother's eyes wouldn't dim, not even once. But he could hold the attention of his would-be suitors for no more than twenty minutes; that look of intrigue, of awed contemplation never once gracing their expression.

To be fair, the man next to him hadn't bothered him in any way other than offering a handkerchief after he sneezed. And the million-watt smile he wore probably wouldn't melt, hell it looked like his mouth was cemented in that position. Aaaand, he hadn't actually spoken to him, other than to inquire about his well-being, so could he really be so quick to judge? When the sounds of giggling drifted from his right, he realized, yes. Yes he could. This person was too much, too fast, and Lukas couldn't deal with the obnoxious brightness of the man next to him, nonetheless try and deal with removing him in a civil manner.

Once again distracted, Lukas had walked right past the café, and into a lamppost. He hissed under his breath, and brought his hands up to cup his nose and rub the part of his forehead the pole had impacted.

That proved it. He had never messed up so many things in so little time before, and in public at that! This stranger, this obnoxious specimen of the human race was just screwing him over, big time. Just like the sun. Exactly like the sun actually, both glaringly obnoxious and loud.

"Uhgg, just what do you want?!" Lukas spun on his heel to face the stranger, hand still cupping his nose precautiously.

The man's eyes widened momentarily at the sudden change, but then he slouched comfortably, weight on one heel with his hands in his pockets. "Well, for one, I just wanted to check and see if you're okay. Either you've got some nasty winter allergies, or you're getting sick."

When he once again pulled out the handkerchief and gestured to Lukas with it, Lukas rolled his eyes and relaxed into a slightly less defensive posture.

"Also, you looked a bit like someone pissed in your coffee, and I thought you might want some company to cheer you up. You'd probably be a bit warmer in the sun, it's a beautiful day for once! Come on!" He then latched onto Lukas' overcoat, not roughly, but with a strong enough grip to drag him back into the sunshine.

"Wait, what?" But Lukas didn't have time to question anything as his eyes were once again assaulted by the blinding sun.

He could have sworn the stranger was talking to him, but the overloads of his senses and the familiar building feeling of cotton in his head stopped him from processing what was being said as he was carted along the pavement.

'Why?' He thought. 'Why me, why today? Who the fuck even is this guy? He could be leading me to a slaughter house right now and I wouldn't be able to tell, oh I'll end up just like uncle Allistor. Emil won't have a clue what happened to me, talk about a date gone wrong. Wait, this isn't a date!' And with that, the cotton in his head overflowed in the form of a series of violent sneezes, successfully stopping the stranger and causing him to loosen his grasp on Lukas.

Free at last, Lukas sprinted for the darkest blob in his hazy vision, hoping that it would offer him sanctuary from his tormentors. To his chagrin, it was only a passing shadow, cast by a cart vendor wheeling past, but it gave him enough respite to locate a better solution.

He heard nervous footsteps behind him, but chose to ignore them in exchange for a fast walk to the shaded patio of the café he had originally been headed to. Once away from the danger, he schlumped against the wall and ran a hand down his face as he sighed. The stranger, now looking nervous and concerned, stood a few feet away, wringing his hands worriedly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Happy angst! Also, if anyone can find the vague reference in this and the following two chapters, you get some brownie points.**

For at least a good minute and a half, the two of them just stood there, Lukas trying to reign in his anger and collect a less disjointed analysis of his day so far, and the stranger anxiously berating himself for messing up his first impression when he just wanted to help.

"Hey, um, I totally didn't think that through… are you okay?" When Lukas didn't respond, the man began shifting from foot to foot nervously.

"I tend to… um, act before I think, and well, it's not always the greatest. Sorry. About dragging you around that is. You just… with the way you sneeze and all, you kinda remind me of this nephew of a guy I work with and uh… well Allistor talks about them so often I felt like if it was you then I already was your friend and uhh I got way ahead of myself… and um… ahh… let me try again." His voice had increased both in pitch and speed as he talked, breaking once or twice betraying his age, but he seemed to regain his confidence at the end of his tirade.

"Allistor is dead." Lukas interrupted him coldly before he could speak.

"…"

"He disappeared two years ago, and unless you're telling me you're some whack-job who works with ghosts, you're a liar." _And an asshole_. Lukas thought, but didn't add.

Realization seemed to dawn on the man's face, as if he just spilled the beans on missile launch codes or something.

"…Oh. Right, well, obviously I didn't mean work with, I meant workED with… a while ago. I knew he disappeared… that was really insensitive of me, I get ahead of myself sometimes, but wait I already said that didn't I..." His rantings got more frantic and harder to decipher, until Lukas cut him off with a glare.

The stranger tried to swallow his anxiety, knowing full well that he had just gotten himself in way over his head with the sharp, angry, analytical eyes of Lukas boring into his soul.

 _You can do this_ , he thought _, just, start over, don't space out, you can do this, be cool_.

He heaved a sigh and composed his features into something resembling an aristocrat before gently holding out his hand to Lukas. "Hello, I had hoped to see if you were doing alright today, as you appeared fairly downtrodden when I saw you. My name is M-"

He never got to finish however, as the sound of rapid gunshots rang out from down the street. Lukas' head sprang upward, his eyes wide and alert as he realized where the sound was coming from.

The stranger was left behind in shock for a few seconds before sprinting after Lukas, who had sprung to his feet and booked it back down the road, paying no mind to the sunlight as fear built in his chest.

Lukas wove expertly through the frantic mess of people trying to run away from the source of the noise, nearly knocking over a few in the process. However he couldn't bring himself to care as he passed the gate to his house and ran down the road towards Heracles' pet shop. Emil was his only priority, invading every thought rushing through his mind.

The sound still rang in his ears, and his heart jumped into his throat as he saw Kiku run frantically down the road toward the nearest telephone booth. It wasn't seeing Kiku running that caused Lukas' steps to falter, nor was it the sheer panic on his face as he ran, but it was the blood that stained the right shoulder of his robes and his hands, dripping onto the cobblestone in his wake.

He wouldn't dare think it, couldn't think it. Maybe it was Kiku's own blood, maybe it was an animal's. These thoughts did little to calm him, however he felt guilty for hoping for either. Lukas turned away from him, cold fury and determination flooding his mind.

Only twenty more feet. Only ten. Only three… Lukas grabbed onto the corner lamppost to help him turn the corner without skidding into the street, but what he saw when the pet shop came into his line of sight made everything stop.

At first, he couldn't process what he was seeing. It appeared to be Heracles' sitting with a cat in his lap, leaning against the building… taking a… nap? But… that wasn't right. The whole atmosphere reeked of adrenaline and smoke and… death.

Lukas' heart wasn't working, or it was beating too fast for him to feel because his chest felt hollow and heavy. His vision clouded with the black and red that comes with lack of oxygen, and he had to remind himself to breathe. His thoughts came like molasses, at a snail's pace, and one by one. Unused adrenaline caused his muscles to twitch and hum with expectation, and sound had faded completely from his mental processing capacity.

Something was wrong. And it took him a moment to figure out what. The cobblestone was far too dark. It was blood. Far too much blood. It seemed to emanate from Heracles. Heracles never took naps outside. Heracles was far, far too still, sitting there like that. He wasn't breathing. There was something behind him. It was… White.

Everything hit Lukas all at once, and his knees nearly gave out underneath him as he realized what, or rather who was spread out, face down on the cobblestone behind Heracles and the cat. His heart, at first having reached unbelievable soaring heights at locating his brother, plummeted out of his body and through the ground when he noticed the crimson staining his hair, his clothes, anything it could reach out to. Emil, like Heracles, was far, far too still.

 **Whacha think so far? I might go back and put a little bit more filling in between now and earlier... should I?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Like I said, if you can figure out what I am referencing with the structure of these three chapters, I owe you a cookie.**

Lukas really couldn't recall much. All he remembered was waking up really exhausted, and fairly stressed, that stress worsening when he found Emil not in his bed where he should have been. He flailed through the crisp cold of a well-made bed in search of his brother, his breathing coming faster than he'd like as he found nothing.

Turning to bolt out of his room and down the stairs, Lukas hit his ankle on the door frame, sending pain shooting up his leg as he spun into the hallway. Guilt and worry was gnawing a hole in his chest he was sure he could see if he had a mirror, and between panicking internally with no sense of direction and nearly falling on his face as he tripped over the squeaky fourth step of the staircase, he nearly missed the grey light streaming in from the front door.

Lukas' thoughts returned to him fairly quickly, and he sighed as the puzzle pieces fit together for him. How stupid, he thought, it was just a dream. Emil's smug face in the doorway grounded Lukas, easing the tension in his chest bit by bit as he became aware of what was around him. Now, the smirk that was on his brother's face currently was usually on his own, and he would do nearly anything to keep it there. Even now, having it directed at his misfortune and lack of coordination irked him some, but the relief flooding through him was enough to make it worthwhile.

' _Sheesh, you'd think you'd seen a ghost or something._ ' Lukas huffed lightly at that, still not finding it in himself to get off the floor, or tear his eyes away from his brother. He looked... to be frank, fairly angelic; bathed in the light of a beautiful cloudy day, dust swirling around him in the open doorway, and his voice seemed to speak right inside Lukas' head, as if Emil was not nearly as far away as the door.

He was just so… happy. He didn't have nightmares often, if ever, and the thought of losing his brother shook him to his core. He shivered involuntarily just thinking about it. Lukas just let his eyes rest on the soft smile spread over Emil's face, on the beautiful violet of his eyes that matched his own, but held an intense fondness he couldn't hope to match. His brother was far too perfect for this world. The world was noisy, grunge-covered, and stained by so much blood and filth that it was nauseating to think about it for too long. Emil was… Everything good about mankind and then some, all wrapped up into the perfect little brother in front of him. God, what did he ever do to deserve him?

He shook himself from his thoughts, and tried not to imagine the blood he had seen in his dream on the being who was… oh wait he was saying something.

 _'_ _Relax a bit, I'm just going to Leon's to help him with his history homework. I'll finish that book you got me later today, okay?'_ And with that soft smile that had never left his face, Emil disappeared out the door, Leaving Lukas still on the floor in the normal dark tones of his house.

After dredging up the motivation to make something caffeinated for himself, Lukas moved languidly into the kitchen, stretching and popping joints as he went. He blearily eyed the half-eaten quiche from that morning, and the plates he had forgotten to clean. Oh well, he'd do it later.

He hummed softly as he collected the ingredients he needed for the strongest cup of coffee he could make. He set down his mug methodically, before emptying coffee grounds into the magic elixir machine. What Lukas would do without it he hoped to never find out. He moved the handkerchief on the counter out of the way as he brought the coffee maker forward and turned it on, grasping his mug between both hands and turning to lean against the counter, blindly staring at the calendar on the far wall.

…

…

The mug Lukas had been holding loosely in his hands shattered deafeningly on the cold floor beneath his feet.

Oh god.

The Bed.

The Quiche.

The Handkerchief.

The Calendar.

Emil's voice.

Lukas was frozen, icy dread seeping through every muscle, every nerve, every hair. The sound of his mug shattering ignored. Oh god.

Emil never, EVER, made his bed. He never let the maid make it either. Lukas would have heard either of them, had they made that bed. It had been cold. Too cold.

He hadn't made the quiche either. That was in his dream. He had just woken up and Emil had already been leaving by the time he got down stairs. But the plates and the food were still there.

The handkerchief wasn't his, and it wasn't his brother's or his parent's. It belonged the obnoxious stranger on the street. The initials were all wrong to begin with. But it was sitting there on his counter menacingly.

The calendar had nothing on it. Not even a month. Lukas never remembered when anything was, and the timetable on the wall was always filled to the brim with dates. It was blank.

Even when Emil was talking to him, he had thought the voice sounded off, like it was in his head. Lukas realized that the soft smile he had been admiring hadn't changed shape once while Emil spoke to him. He hadn't moved his mouth at all.

Realization came crashing down on Lukas as he tensed his muscles to the breaking point when he snapped his head around to look out the window. Nothing. No skyline, no trees, no grass, absolutely, nothing.

Nothing. That's the feeling that was filling him, urgently sloshing higher until he felt he would drown in it. And then…

Darkness.

 **I'm evil. So, very, very evil. Angst is my specialty, and though this chapter was short, I'm proud of it. Also, I found some gramatical errors in previous ones, and will go back to fix them at some point, but it might take me a bit. Also, anyone wanna supply a funeral scene?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Ehhyy, I'm baack! For a bit anyway. Life has been kinda not-so-good lately, family member on their deathbed, 5 and 1/2 hours of testing and extensive studying for said testing and all are making it a bit hard for me to find time for stuff, but hopefully this chapter suffices for now.**

Time passed in a blur for Lukas. Was it day? Was it night? Hell if he knew. Hell if he cared. Nothing held importance anymore. After he had woken up from... whatever dream state he had been in, nothingness was the most accurate description for everything in his life.

He still hadn't accepted it. He doubted he ever would. Every time the maid came in to try and make the beds, or pick up their books, Lukas would shoo her away; locking the door to make sure that the only thing to ever touch Emil's stuff again would be either him, (should he ever get the bravery to do so) or the dust. His bed still sported the pajamas Emil had tossed on it that day, along with the red book Kiku had given to Lukas after the authorities had cleared the scene.

That book.

It had caused so much trouble. After he had thrown it on the bed, Lukas could hardly look at it, nonetheless do anything with it. It took him a while to realize it had blood on it. He couldn't be sure if the now-brownish stain on the bottom front cover was from his brother or his friend. He supposed it didn't really matter.

If the damn book hadn't been so odd, if Emil hadn't found it interesting enough to skip out the door asking questions, if Lukas had picked it up later, if if if if… the list could go on forever. But the largest glaring if, the one he was unable to shove out of his mind for more than a few moments at a time, it filling him with rage all the while…

If that stupid, obnoxious stranger hadn't charged into his line of sight, white handkerchief waving. Now, Lukas' rational mind knew it was completely unfair to blame someone so unrelated to him and his situation for something as big as… well that. Unfortunately, that's just what his mind did, and he couldn't help but be bitter about it and think that if he ever saw those ridiculously blue eyes again, he would punch their owner in the face without a second thought.

The more he mulled over it, the more he blamed the stranger. He could have blamed himself, but it was far easier to say that this person distracted him; he should have been listening to Emil ask questions. He should have gotten to the café and left, but where had he been? He had been in the imprisoning grip of that stranger, being dragged through town.

The anger he held only grew and warped in his silent and brooding mind.

Weeks had passed, maybe months, where he spoke only in nods and glances. Lukas had tried getting up as he normally would with his brother for a few days, but soon getting out of his sheets became so labor intensive, he just couldn't manage it earlier that eleven. He ate at a minimum, not intentionally, but he couldn't bring himself to cook, and his inactivity required little energy. He really didn't do much of anything anymore.

Kiku had called several times in the week following the shooting. Lukas never answered. Eventually he listened to the messages Kiku had left, vaguely remembering something about the shop closing, then being sold, and that he was going to drop off some books for Lukas. By the time he had gotten that last message, the books were already piled in their…his library. He didn't look at them.

Leon had come by at some point to collect a few things that he had left at his friend's house. Lukas had been laying on his bed, unmoving, hands above his head and shirt halfway buttoned when he came into th-his room. Leon was crying. Lukas was also crying. Maybe. These days it was hard to tell.

The funeral had been the next day. Lukas didn't want to be there. His parents gave a eulogy, a long one he thought. It was nice.

No it wasn't.

He didn't remember it.

After the words stopped, he went home and laid on the floor beside his bed. He couldn't see Emil's side of the room from there. He cried. And then he fell asleep.

For the first time in his life, Lukas was late for his economics lesson. He didn't care. His father certainly did though, nearly screaming obscenities at him, unleashing his pent up emotion at losing his youngest son upon the elder. Lukas didn't hear it. He was too busy trying not to look at the empty chair next to him.

Lukas was asked to present his ideas for a new way to prevent the rebels from infecting the city. He didn't have any. Someone had thought his brother was a rebel. That someone had also thought his best friend was a rebel. Obviously there wasn't a way to stop anything from infecting the city. His speech was written for him and was spoken flawlessly, the applause he got was nearly deafening. Lukas could only hear the sound of gunshots.

It rained again. The city rejoiced. Lukas just stared. The last time it had rained, he had been picking up that book. Two umbrellas sat in front of him on the windowsill, one a royal blue with a swirly red and white pattern, and the other the same, but with the red and blue inverted. Lukas pushed both out of his vision as he gazed blindly at the water running frantically down his window, not bothering to turn on a light as night overtook the day.

Kiku tried to visit. Lukas locked his door. He could hear the low, concerned voices of his parents mingling with that of Kiku's in the hall outside his room. Had Lukas been feeling up to it, he might have been surprised to hear such concern in the soft-spoken man's voice. Perhaps at some point in the past it would have made his heart swell to know that even someone as distant as Kiku cared about his wellbeing. Now it just made his gut twist uncomfortably.

Under threat of his parents chaining him to a tree outside, Lukas found himself sitting demurely under a striped canopy at an unfamiliar tavern. He had reached the age of requirement (19) a few days ago, and despite having been mildly amused by the antics of his parents on the day, he found very little had changed. He was no longer of schooling age, free to do as he wished until it was his turn to pick up the family title. The thought still made him a bit queasy, however, and he quickly turned his mind elsewhere.

Staring out at the people rushing about on the cobblestone, Lukas idly wondered just when he was able to observe the color of the umbrellas of passersby. It had been so long since he had seen color in anything, having viewed the world in a monochrome grayscale since his brother left. Now it was only a light shade here and there, nothing vibrant, nothing extraordinary. The last two colors standing out like that both brought back memories Lukas would much rather forget. But still, it was progress. He was making progress.

 **I need a thing to happen here. What thing should happen here?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Ehhy, I'm back again! Not dead, at least I'm like 40% sure I'm not. Either way, have another chapter, less depressing this time, at least somewhat. Ehh, next chapter is all fun and annoying Lukas.**

Progress. At least, that's what he thought it was. Most people would call it 'reckless behavior' but really, Lukas didn't give a shit. His parents didn't care, so long as he didn't die or get arrested or soil the family name and so on. They didn't care about much anymore, squabbling amongst themselves and nearly ignoring Lukas completely. When they no longer had to see him for his education, they gave him a few guidelines and left it at that, leaving him alone in a far too large, far too empty wing of the house.

Lukas supposed he knew why though. They avoided looking directly at him most of the time, and he felt if he were in their position, he would have done the same.

Not too long after Kiku had given up on trying to contact him, Lukas had found himself alone in the house, leaning over the bathroom sink one day. He had been there for nearly an hour, staring blankly at the immobile reflection in the large mirror across from him. He wasn't sure why, but he felt compelled to take his hair out of its clip; the one he had gotten at his christening and had worn ever since. After he did so, Lukas found himself narrowing his eyes and leaning forward, trying to pick out what about his altered image was so familiar.

And then he remembered.

Emil had always had the same haircut he did. And the same eyes, and nose, and the same small quirk of the mouth that was his smile. They looked so. Much. Alike.

At the realization, Lukas let out a strangled cry; his lungs burning from the sudden change of pace. His grip on the edge of the water basin strengthened as his knees threatened to give way, causing him to slowly sink to the ground, his reflection in the mirror small and nearly obscured, but still so glaringly obvious.

Lukas couldn't break his eyes away from the scared face in front of him; such a desperate and pained expression should never have been on his brother's face like that. But it was. Dear god, that was his brother's face, staring back at him from the mirror- infinite pain reflected in those wide, haunted eyes.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't look at that face and not hate everything about himself. He couldn't not hate that he was alive and breathing and that his parents had to look at him while he could hide behind his eyes, he couldn't help but hate the way his eyes crinkled in exactly the same manner as his brother's whenever he was stressed. He couldn't help but hate that all he could ever see from then on when he looked in the mirror was his brother's face, twisted and warped from grief that he had never experienced.

Lukas let out an angry shriek- his voice hoarse and brittle from misuse—only to be drowned out by the shattering of glass as he brought his fist towards the mirror. He was breathing hard, shaking like a leaf in the wind and his fists were clenched so tightly the skin of his knuckles was turning white; a strong contrast to the blood that was dripping down the right one.

It dribbled slowly onto the shattered glass beneath his feet, each droplet echoing deafeningly in Lukas' mind. An eternity seemed to pass before the tension left his muscles and his ragged gasping began to slow. With nothing holding him up aside from his own self-loathing, Lukas sank to his knees once again, fiercely gripping his hair in his hands and paying no mind to the blood that was staining the soft fibers and trailing down past his temple. Broken sobs escaped him, and the darkness that he had been fighting- all alone and in complete silence- began to spread in the cavity of his chest, enhancing the ache that had arrived the second his heart left him after rounding the corner to the pet shop and hadn't left since.

It hurt. It hurt so bad. He couldn't look at his hands, or at the shards of glass scattered about him still trying to do their job by reflecting his tears and blood back at him. The pain in his chest and the ringing in his head and the low moaning sound he just realized he was making were all blurring together in his mind- overwhelming and so blissfully painful- they were all willing him to the ground, hunching his back and laying over him in a suffocating blanket.

Lukas couldn't remember how long he sat there, hunched over with tears and blood pooling beneath him, but he did remember that they had replaced the mirror. He also remembered the concerned gazes of his parents at a bandage wrapped just a little bit too tightly around his right hand. He guessed that meant he had gotten up and cleaned himself up at some point. Huh.

He didn't really remember fixing himself up, and he was sure that earlier he probably wouldn't have. But now he was slowly picking himself back up, moving around, going outside, figuring out how to live again. It was nice.

Of course, perhaps the way he was choosing to start living… wasn't the best. The tavern he was sitting at, it was one of the better ones he had been to in a while. Cleaner both in reputation and actual cleanliness. That wasn't to say it was clean—the sticky tile floor and undefinable stench wafting from one of the back rooms attested to that—but it was certainly better than the one he had been at three days prior.

 _"_ _Come on man, I gave you all the money I got, help a guy out here and just give me a little…"_

 _"_ _You seriously think I can make a living off of crap like this? It's not like I can take loans out on shit like this you ass, pay what you owe and then I'll hand it over."_

 _"_ _But I already told ya, this is all I got…"_

 _"_ _No deal."_

 _"_ _Please man, come on you don't want the authorities involved do ya?"_

 _"_ _I said no, you fuck. Besides, even if you could get the authorities involved, they'd have to ask how you were footing the bill for all this stuff, and that alcohol you're holdin'. If I were you, I wouldn't go around throwin' out threats like that in a place like this, it can get you a hell of a lot lower than six feet if you get my drift."_

 _This conversation had been taking place right up against Lukas' coattails and he was slowly boiling over. These men smelled like piss and any number of deplorable things and as they kept falling over each other (and onto him), speaking far too loudly for such a small space, he was just sober enough to keep from taking his foot to their faces. Instead he chose to glare down the bartender and shove his glass in his general direction, indicating his intention to continue drinking._

 _Said barkeep gave him a questioning glance, perhaps wondering just how much alcohol could fit in someone so slight, but chose to keep his thoughts to himself as he refilled Lukas' glass for the third or fourth time._

 _He was a paying customer after all._

 _Glancing to his right, Lukas surveyed his options. He could move over a stool or two, but the one next to him had a worryingly sticky spot on it that he'd rather not risk, and he wasn't sure how his coordination would fair should he attempt the farthest one. Of course, he could also just stay there, but the next bump of his shoulder from the duo behind him made his decision for him._

 _After downing nearly the whole glass in a rush, Lukas threw some coins on the table-more than enough to pay his tab certainly—and stood up harshly, grumbling under his breath about assholes who couldn't pay for what they bought._

 _As he stumbled blindly for the door, a dirty, yet distinctly feminine hand caught his sleeve, hoping to catch his eyes and perhaps his undivided attention for the next few hours. Lukas merely sauntered past, grimacing when he stepped on something that felt vaguely like a limb, but he hadn't the courage to look down and find out._

 _Besides that, he wasn't sure moving his head was the best idea right then._

Shaking himself back to the present, Lukas adjusted his grip around the steaming mug in his gloved hands. A singular helping of mulled wine was all he decided to allow himself, especially considering the fact that it was only just passed two in the afternoon.

He had spent his new free time idling between nothing and putting slight effort into investigating the rebel alliance that was beginning to take shape there in the Capitol. Lukas kept telling himself that there wasn't a purpose behind it, merely idle curiosity, but he knew it was hopeless. He couldn't help but be stricken by the likeness his actions held to that of his father when Allistor disappeared.

It was all for Emil, he reminded himself. He just needed to know, to be able to put a face to the owner of the bullet that took away his brother. It was for no higher purpose than that. Right?

It was a fairly nice day, good for not talking to people. Or being productive. Unfortunately, that wasn't what karma threw at Lukas. Instead, all he got was a rushed "Scheiße! Blicken!" before being bowled out of his seat by the man being thrown out of the door to his immediate left with some angry shouting in the background.

Groaning from both him and the man laying across his chest brought Lukas back to awareness, the throbbing at the back of his skull the source. At the insistence of his brain, Lukas opened his eyes, finding himself for the first time in a very long while, assaulted with a very bright color, once again stuck in someone's eyes. This time, they were red.

 **Am I too obvious? Yeah probably. I was debating which charachter I wanted to introduce here, and I had been considering Spain, but it didn't really fit his charachterization, and I have plans for him. Many plans. The poor dear. Either way, this next chapter should be at least a little fun. Anyone wanna make me a playlist to go with the story?**


	9. Chapter 9

**Oh my god I am so so sorry, this is way late I know, but I've had a lot of family stuff to deal with these past few weeks; trying to plan a funeral and juggle my exams is hard. I also had a sever case of writer's block for this scene, I hadn't even meant to introduce Gilbert here, but he just decided to show up? while I was writing? So I had to come up with something for him to do.**

Lukas glared as best he could at the weight on top of him, not really wanting to make the effort to get it off, but at the same time severely annoyed. He could smell the alcohol wafting strongly from the groaning figure, and nearly retched as their breath was huffed up into his face.

"What. The. Fuck."

The man on his chest looked mildly confused for a second, then started laughing boisterously, causing Lukas' stomach to reel once more.  
They rolled off, allowing Lukas to suck in some fresh air and sit up a bit.

They were still laying on the ground laughing.

"Why does the world hate me?" Was whispered under Lukas' breath when he stood up, finally taking in the figure in front of him.  
They were a good two or three inches taller than him, evident even with them on the ground. The man's eyes were a deep red, and his hair a fairly eccentric shade of white. Lukas idly wondered if it was natural or one of those fancy new treatments.

They seemed entirely unabashed at having been thrown on top of another person, and he warily made the connection to the last person with bright eyes he had encountered. It wasn't a pleasant thought.  
The man had finally stopped his chuckling, and was watching Lukas curiously as Lukas regarded him in kind.

Neither blinked for a while, and the awkward tension in the air grew slightly sexual when the man lying on the ground struck a pose and wiggled his eyebrows at Lukas.  
Lukas huffed and broke eye contact, attempting to step over the stranger and retrieve his mug; now empty, its contents divvied between the ground, the man on the ground, and himself.

Lukas picked it up and sighed, glancing inside in with the small hope that some hadn't been throw violently to the ground; alas, no such luck. Well, the good always did die young.  
Lukas cringed, not liking the truth behind that statement. In turn it reminded him of the blue-eyed asshole, and thusly the red-eyed asshole lying in front of him. He groaned in frustration, trying to keep his anger to a minimum. This man hadn't done anything to him… yet.

"So, is there a reason you're standing there trying to telepathically will your way into my pants or what?"

The stranger had stood up, and was looking Lukas over in much the same way as Blue had, except… his gaze was a bit more… intense? No, that wasn't right. There was something else…  
Before Lukas had the time to hunt down the words to identify just what was going on, the stranger spoke again.  
"Name's Gilbert. And you are?"

Lukas waged war in his mind, did he really want to involve himself in conversation? He could just walk away. It'd be rude, but he could do it. Should he? Maybe? He didn't have time to come to a conclusion. The man gripped his shoulder, it was probably meant to be a light, friendly thing, but the man- Gilbert- was stronger than he looked.  
Well then. He couldn't really run away now.

"Lukas." It came out almost as a growl, but Gilbert didn't seem to notice.  
"What?"  
"My name. It's Lukas. Lukas Bondevik."

"Well, nice to meet you Lukas! Sorry about taking you down there, I wasn't really planning on being launched out a door into the street, but ehh, things happen." Gilbert then wrapped his whole arm around Lukas' shoulders, and didn't feel Lukas stiffen underneath him.

God, you're just like him…" He really hadn't meant to say it out loud, but unfortunately he had, and equally unfortunately, Gilbert heard him.  
"Just like who? I hope that's a good thing!"

Lukas just sighed and shrugged. Passively accepting his fate as Gilbert started to walk casually down the road, Lukas in tow.

Gilbert seemed to be waiting for an answer and eyed Lukas' growing frown as he began to dwell on the blue-eyed asshole. "Just this one guy I met a while back…." He didn't really want to piss this new guy off, so he had to pick his wording carefully. "Had really blue eyes, really blond hair, about yay tall…" He gestured with his hand.  
"… Really, really loud. Said he worked with my uncle Allistor while he was alive, but to be honest I think he was lying."

If Lukas hadn't been so wrapped up in his own muddled thoughts about that day he might have noticed Gilbert's eyes widen and his casual pace slip up ever so slightly. However he was only brought back to the present when his escort cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Are you talking about Mathias? Wears a short waistcoat- the most disgusting shade of tan you'll ever see- hair kinda poofy like someone held him upside down for a while?"  
Lukas quirked his eyebrow at the description. "Sounds about right. I never actually got the guy's name… But to be sure, I think whoever may have held him upside down like that probably dropped him a few times as well…" Shit. He hadn't meant to say that out loud either. Lukas flinched slightly, and glanced to his left to check Gilbert's reaction.

What he saw wasn't what he expected. Gilbert had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face and almost literal sparkles in his eyes as he looked back at Lukas. It took a few seconds, but eventually he broke out into laughter, large guffaws echoing across the street as Lukas stared.

Eventually Gilbert had to let go to grasp at his stomach and stop walking he was laughing so hard. Lukas found it… amusing. His own mouth twitched up at the sides, and he let an airy huff of laughter escape him. As Gilbert continued his tirade, now bent over, Lukas began laughing in earnest; quiet and subtle, but it was there.

Gilbert took a few moments to notice, but as he came back to himself, he was captured by the fairy- like laughter coming from his companion; subtly trying to hide his mouth with his palm, eyes nearly closed and a placated expression on his face. Gilbert hadn't seen so much as a twitch of a smile the whole time they had been walking, and from Mathias' description, such… happy behavior was unnatural for this guy.  
It made him smile.

Soon enough, they both quieted and Lukas resumed his neutral expression, except this time less intensely as a smile still flitted lightly at the edges of his mouth.  
"You're not the first person to say that kid, but really, Mathias isn't a bad guy. He isn't stupid either, far from it actually; one of the best thinkers I know… he's just really bad at reading the atmosphere. Or People. Or really anything having to do with communication." Gilbert grimaced as he realized he could continue that list for a while.

"Either way what I'm trying to say is, you should give him a chance, he's one of the most loyal people you'll ever meet. If he decides you're truly worth his time, you won't regret having met him." What he wasn't expecting was the sever frown that found it's was onto Lukas' face at his last statement.

From his minimal conversations with Mathias at work the past few months and the general gossip of the network, Gilbert had learned that Mathias had been near the scene where Kiku's friend had been murdered, along with the youngest son of the Bondevik family.

He hadn't entirely put two and two together to realize that Mathias had been with Lukas on that day or that it just might be that Lukas connected his brother's death to Mathias following him around- but he was beginning to.  
Using his minimal tact and observation skills, he decided to change the subject.  
"So, what were you doing at a bar like that on a day like today? I thought that a high class guy like yourself would be doing some political stuff or on your way to a fancy get together with the fuhrer." Unfortunately, his badly timed sarcasm wasn't taken as he had hoped; Lukas turned sharply to glare

at him with icy eyes.  
Shit this guy was intimidating.  
"…I really don't find what I do with my free time to be any of your business." Lukas dodged the question, something in his tone telling Gilbert not to push the conversation.  
They both fell into an uncomfortable silence as they resumed walking briskly down the avenue. Gilbert took note of the fact that, despite being taller that his companion by a few inches, he was having to really try to keep up with Lukas' pace.

Lukas on the other hand, was stewing angrily, about what he didn't quite know, perhaps about the recent conversation, perhaps about the mulled wine still staining his front, perhaps about having his fairly nice day ruined by someone in relation to Mathias, formerly known as the blue- eyed asshole. Either way he just kept walking.  
He only stopped and looked up from the ground when Gilbert faded out of his peripherals.

"Well," Gilbert hitched a thumb towards the train station across the street. "This is my stop… See you sometime maybe." Without giving Lukas a chance to respond he turned and jaywalked across the street, a few cars honking at him as he smiled guiltily at them.

Lukas stood there for a second, watching Gilbert's back retreat into the crowd around the station. He then looked down. Time to head home and get that stain off of his clothes.

 **I actually ended up making a character sheet halfway through writing this, just because I really needed to figure out just how on earth everyone fit together, and sheesh is that thing complicated. I'm glad I wrote it down or else the story would just fall apart later on.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry about this chapter, It's really just filler and more character introduction that was supposed to happen later. I had some serious writer's block and still need to come up with something for the next big drama moment. Actually, I asked my friend for inspiration, and all they gave me was "the fabric known as silk" and I went from there, but later realized I can use that later on.**

Lukas traipsed agitatedly down the hall, trying –and failing- to think calmer… less murdery thoughts. Yeah, it really wasn't working. He had just been freed from the confines of his father's office; for just what reason he had been there, he didn't know…. But he knew it pissed him off.

Okay to be honest, part of him 'not knowing' was just him zoning out and also not caring, but he did get the gist of the conversation. Something about his family trying to buy... what? Some sort of specialties fabric company? Was it silk they made? Lukas thought it may have been, but ehh.

Either way, whatever it was, it was full of technical, economical, stuff. And responsibility. He couldn't forget responsibility. He hated that. And his parents wanted to dump a fuckton of it on him with a 'surprise birthday gift'. Of an entire. Company. What the hell he was supposed to do with that he had no clue.

Why couldn't he have gotten one of those new automobiles that were seen racing all over the capitol in the grand sweep of fashion? At least that he could use. Seriously, as much as he felt the walking he did was good- It was really the only form of exercise he ever did- if he wanted to go anywhere farther than a few miles he had to take the rail, and through a grueling process of trial and error he found that any time after four was when all the creeps came out of hiding, and onto the public transportation.

Lukas found himself occasionally thinking wishfully to himself that he wasn't one of the 'public' and that he was honoring the people by gracing the railways with his presence. He would then promptly punch himself in the face for being a pompous ass.

Thinking back to the matter at hand, Lukas realized that he didn't even like silk. It was far too slippery to be comfortable, and felt like mold when it got wet. Ew. What would he have to do to run this company at a minimum, but still satisfy his parents? He really wanted to be as hands off as possible.

Oh. And his boss. Apparently owning the company didn't mean having free reign over it, as it was part of a branding label that was, conveniently (depending on your perspective), owned and managed by a friend/coworker of his father. Oh joy. So he was to run the company according to whatever standards this mystery man put up, and he couldn't just sell it off either, leaving him with the simple option of doing what his parents said and returning to the state of being a functional member of society again.

Damn his parent's ingenuity.

Lukas found that the swift clicking of his shoes down the really too-long-to-serve-any-logical-purpose hallway was calming. He closed his eyes and tilted his head down, breathing through his nose deeply; effectively calming his fried nerves.

It almost worked, until he ran head first into a wall that hadn't been there a few moments before when he had looked down the hall. Wait. That wasn't a wall. That. Was a person.

Good god, what was it with him and running into people?! Lukas peered up from under his dislodged bangs, the cross-clip slipping down loosely to his ear, taking in the figure in front of him. Tall, dark and handsome was an accurate but understated description of the man smiling down at him.

The man gave off an air of jovial friendliness that eased the tension remaining in Lukas from his meeting a few minutes ago. There was also an underlying… something that Lukas took a few seconds to identify as an "I'm a nice guy, but fuck with me or my people and they won't be able to find your body" kind of aura. Huh. Lukas liked that.

"Well hi there! You doing okay? I had thought you seemed a bit out of it, guess I was right huh?" The man offered out a nicely tanned (How?! There's never any sun around here?) and well-muscled arm to help Lukas up.

After lightly patting off Lukas' coat, the man spoke again. "You're Lukas right?" He smiled brightly, and for the first time in a while, Lukas wasn't bothered by it being directed at him.

"That's me. Were you looking for me, or just browsing?" He didn't mean for it to come out quite that suggestive, but his inner flirt had been silenced for too long… now that he didn't have Emil to tease ruthlessly. Oh Well. The man seemed to take it well.

Deep, joyful laughter filled the hallway for a moment before the man held out his hand for Lukas to shake.

"As it happens I was looking for you! I presume you just got done talking to your dad about the new arrangements. I'm Antonio, your new boss!"

 _Oh. Well then._


	11. Chapter 11

**I am so so so very sorry about this chapter, it exists in its disappointing entirety as a filler chapter while I try to get my head around testing season and a few large projects I'm working on for the end of the school year. I meant to have at least something out like two weeks ago and I just forgot. Unfortunately this mildly funny if slightly perverse thing is all I got out, but it has to do for now.**

As his thought process ground to a halt, Lukas took a moment to consider the face in front of him. It was a nice face, one he altogether wouldn't have minded exploring intimately had the situation not just revealed itself as it had. The nose was nice, strong, but sized perfectly in relation the strong jaw. They eyes were green, hairline a nearly unnoticeable widow's peak and he noticed a light dusting of freckles around the cheekbones that, in all honesty, he shouldn't have been able to see. Well. If he hadn't been standing way inside Antonio's personal bubble.

It occurred to Lukas that he should probably take a step back and stand a bit farther away from his boss if he didn't want to accidentally kiss him. Hoo- boy, that wasn't something Lukas would ever have thought he would have an issue with. Kissing his boss. That. Would be bad.

Well, only for his career, and his reputation, and his pride (not that he really had much to begin with), also probably his parents, perhaps his health if he couldn't book it away from Antonio's fists fast enough - ' _NO! Bad Lukas! You aren't kissing him, now or ever, so stop it.'_

It also meant, Lukas realized, that because Antonio was his dad's coworker, he was a member of parliament. Which meant when Lukas took over for his father, he would be working with Antonio for the rest of his life. Screwing up now meant bad things haunting him for the remainder of his time as a sentient being on the planet. Shit.

As he was slowly brought back to reality, Lukas had the mantra " _Don't kiss your boss, don't kiss your boss, don't—"_ going through his head, which ultimately wouldn't have been a problem if he hadn't thought about it as much as he did and if his thoughts didn't translate into his words.

"Don't kiss anyone sir."

Lukas paused. Realization. Embarrassment. The overwhelming need to melt into the floor. These were all things that hit Lukas like a bullet train when his statement of 'nice to meet you sir' and his inner mantra of 'Don't kiss your boss' got jumbled on the way out.

Antonio looked… well not nearly as pissed as Lukas would have pegged him for at that moment. In fact, he looked a mix of amused and mildly confused. "Pardon?"

"Err, absolutely nothing."

"Hmmm, if you say so." He paused, a grin similar to the one Gilbert wore the other day working its way onto his face. "But just so we stay professional here, don't go kissing anyone either."

Then, he winked. He fucking winked. And then turned away, motioning for Lukas to follow him back down the way he came, laughing light heartedly as he went.

Now Lukas' mind naturally chose that moment to go a few different places that most certainly were not in any way appropriate, and in his low-key subconscious attempt to undress Antonio with his eyes and walk after him like he was supposed to, he managed to once again find his face on the floor. Ah, gravity. The ultimate kinkshamer.

Before Antonio could look behind him and see Lukas once again on the floor, he scrambled to his feet, looking flushed and slightly disheveled, but otherwise presentable. Antonio merely eyed him over his shoulder and chuckled lightly, still walking and expecting Lukas to follow.

After an embarrassing (on Lukas' end) silence, Antonio stopped in front an office in the left wing of the building, fiddling with the keys in his pocket.

"I hope you don't mind, but your father said I could have you for the rest of the day, and I just need to grab a few things before we can head out and I can show you your new place of employment."

 _Ah, this must be his office then._ Lukas nodded and sashayed to the side to avoid being whacked in the face by the door.

It was a nice office, larger than he had originally thought. There was a large, dark desk as the centerpiece of the room, dimly lit with a green accountant's light. The rest of the room was sparsely furnished, save the bookshelves lining the walls and the small office chair for guests. A large window backed the desk, shedding a monochrome grey light that compensated for the insufficient lamp, and Lukas idly wondered if Antonio worked late in such terrible lighting.


	12. Chapter 12

Antonio had shuffled about for a few minutes, straightening some papers and collecting others, mashing them carelessly into a manila folder in his bag, eventually hefting both the bag and his coat over his shoulder and turning off the light.

Lukas, now sitting in the shiny new convertible that Antonio had lead him to in back of the building, was trying desperately to school his expression. The car was so cool. Everything was new and shiny, even the smell made him loathe to ruin the unmarred leather seats with his coattails.

He wanted one.

Now that he had a taste of such luxury, he felt that he could never go back on the rail line again. Nope, nothing could compare to the unique tang of artificially cooled air caressing your face in a closed environment and the soothing sway of the axels as the car wove down the road.

Yup. He needed one of these. Like really. He hadn't really been one for the trending market, but… this car. Was amazing.

Antonio began to speak, distracting Lukas from his reverence.

"So, first I want to introduce you to the actual warehouse and manufacturing center, but you won't actually be there except for perhaps once a month for check ins. I'm not sure entirely how much detail your father went into about what you'll be doing, but it's more integration into the actual company and the parliamentary people responsible for it than running a business. You'll be in charge of directing your department- that's the silk production- in coordination with everyone else. We figured we'd start small and see just what happens later on, but either way it'll be a good introduction to the team, later your fellow politicians!" Antonio was once again beaming, his eyes closed, and Lukas was mildly concerned that he wasn't watching the road.

Lukas didn't follow what was so exciting about that, but decided not to risk dividing Antonio's attention again.

Despite the hazardous driving, Antonio kept talking, this time actually looking in the right direction. "Nearly everyone you'll be working with or under are members of parliament, well, except for Vash, Feliks, Eduard and Carlos, but they're close friends anyway." He made a pleased hum under his breath- as if remembering something- before continuing.

"Roderich and I monitor most of the company's day to day activity, as well as some of the finances, but the whole thing is technically owned and managed by Gupta and Sadik. They're… enthusiastic, I'll give them that."

Lukas was just giving him a bewildered stare, and as Antonio pulled the car into a wide gravel parking lot and sighed, trying to appease his companion. "Well, I'll just let you meet everyone. I'm certain that there will be at least a few people you'll get along with initially, but I think you'll warm up to nearly everyone. Either way, don't forget, you're with us forever!" He ended with a singsong voice and a chuckle.

Lukas shivered, a bit unnerved by that last statement, even if it was meant in good taste. He had always known he had little choice in his future, but hearing someone else say it so bluntly really put it into reality.

The factory itself was fairly nondescript, at least, from the outside that's how it appeared. Industrial gray cinderblock, topped with industrial copper, with just a dash of ash for good measure of course. On the inside, it was chaos.

Now, it wasn't necessarily outside of what Lukas imagined a factory would look like, however, it wasn't what he had been expecting either. He had been expecting calm and orderly workers walking about with clipboards checking on neatly rolled bolts of fabric, kept clean and tidy with gloves and protective packaging. That is not what he got.

What he got, was instead a loud swarm of people buzzing about with oil and other detritus staining their clothes and calloused skin; machines at full blast spinning, rolling, dying, and lord knows what else with the fabric; massive bolts rolling overhead on catwalks and sitting in dizzying rows on ceiling high shelves; papers and torn receipts fluttering down from where they were dropped or discarded on the upper level; hoses running into massive vats of boiling liquid; a truly intimidating panel of lights, switches and buttons being fussed at by what must have been at least a dozen different technicians, all of it enough to make Lukas take a half step back, as he grew dizzy.

 **Short chapter is short, I regret everything, it's finals time people, and I am doing this at 2 am instead of Bio work, be happy! Also, there will likely be one or two new chapters out by the end of this month depending on just how much work I have to do, and possibly a completed FMA oneshot, however for the beginning of June I'll be taking a lovely bus ride through France and Spain, (kinda weird, considering this fandom) and will be lacking the wifi and general technology to update things. Just warning you in advance.**


End file.
